Reunion
by Icarus
Summary: I wondered why so many have teenage love affairs end in marriage. So I wrote this story of two who went their separate ways, then met up again, ten years later. What would it be like?
1. Default Chapter

Reunion

by Icarus

The knock sounded again, and Ron set down his beer, wondering _what the hell...?_ as he blinked and wandered to the door. He ran through a mental list of just who might show up after ten pm, up to and including his soon-to-be ex-wife, and came up empty. He'd set his Wards to alert him to any of the usual suspects, but perhaps Louisa had found a way around it. He peeked through the side window. If it was his wife, he'd just as soon she stayed on the porch. There was nothing more to say.

A man stood on the front porch, dressed in an elegant black cape. He was slapping a pair of broom-riding gloves impatiently into his palm. He looked a little anxious, and utterly out of place in this neighborhood. Someone dressed like that ought to be going to the opera. The white-blonde hair reminded Ron of Lucius Malfoy, but it was short, and the man's face was more delicate. Besides, Lucius was dead.

Draco -? It had been years.

Ron opened the door, brushing at his hair with his fingers.

"I was in the neighborhood..." Draco began.

"Not dressed like that you weren't," Ron interjected.

"Let me finish, I have a good excuse: I was in the neighborhood and, uh, my broom broke down and... oh, Merlin's arse, see what you've done? I don't recall the rest of it now." Draco ran his hand through his hair. "May I come in?"

Ron nodded mutely, staring and adding up the changes in this figure from his past. Draco was probably doing the same, and Ron was suddenly intensely aware of the fact he hadn't shaved and was wearing a grubby old T-shirt and just his boxers. Not to mention the dishes in the sink. But hell, it was late. What was Draco doing here?

"I left my wife," Draco said, as if this were 'hello' or 'good evening.' "A few hours ago... maybe more. I dunno, what time is it? I've been walking."

"10:37. Thought you said you flew."

"Eight hours then, wow. Oh. My... it's late, isn't it?" Draco said, in an abstracted tone.

"That would explain the fact that it's dark out, yes."

" 'M'sorry. Didn't realise the time. I'll come back..." Draco turned to leave.

"No, it's all right." Ron scrubbed at his eyes. "Would you like some tea?" Tea was Mum's solution to everything. Ron supposed that included surprise late-night visitors.

Draco nodded and pulled off his cape, looking about for a servant to hand it to. Ron took it and hung it up, then went into the kitchen to make tea. The water was probably still hot.

"Nice place you have here," Draco called out from the living room.

Ron returned with the tea. "No, it isn't."

"It was a polite thing to say." Draco looked peeved.

"It's bullshit. You don't have to be polite to me," Ron snorted. "It's me? Remember -?"

Draco smiled a little, relaxing for the first time since he stepped through Ron's door. A gold ring sparkled on his left hand. Ron's own hand still had a white mark where his had been. It looked naked.

"Nice shit-hole you've got here, Weasley."

"Thanks," Ron laughed, "don't mention it." 

Draco's hands played around the rim of the cup as he stared into it as though trying to read the future in the tea leaves. "I left my wife," he said.

"You mentioned that," Ron nodded.

"I did? Rather sudden of me," Draco said, still staring at the tea. It wasn't clear if he meant his words, or his departure. Ron thought he meant the latter. The Draco he knew was rarely concerned with how he affected other people.

"I heard you were living alone," Draco said. "Strange. I always thought you were the marrying type, pop out a new litter of Weasleys..."

"Yeah. Me too. Didn't work out."

"Divorce?"

"Not yet," Ron said. 

"I'm sorry."

"Guess I'm not that easy to live with..." Ron sighed.

"Bullshit! You were great to live with," Draco said. "You never learned to read between the lines - you just believe people. She's full of it. Trust me."

Ron didn't have anything to say to that. He had thought so, but there were plenty of people who agreed with his wife. Mostly her friends. They drank their tea quietly. The fire crackled, and Ron glanced up. But it was just the wood; there was no one in the Floo. He was still looking around at sounds, expecting other people in the house. 

"I do have kids though," Ron added, as a sudden afterthought. 

"Really?"

"Four. Three boys and a girl."

"Small brood for a Weasley," Draco observed casually. Ron was reminded of Lucius again. But he looked like Draco. The changes were somewhat disconcerting.

Ron smiled warmly. He had never wanted any of his kids to be overshadowed like he had been. 

"Fred and George have more than made up for that. Between the kids they had _before_ they were married..."

Draco snickered, "I heard about that... what do they do, go from house to house like bumblebees?" His eyes sparkled impishly, and he looked very much like Draco at that moment.

"I still can't get all the girlfriend's names straight..." Ron shook his head. 

"I have a little girl," Draco said with a proud smile. The smile suddenly slipped. "She's not going to be too happy with Daddy today."

"She'll forgive you."

Draco looked up.

Ron shrugged. "She's daddy's girl, right?"

"Yeah..." Draco's smile was distant and wistful. 

Draco let his head fall back to the couch with a sigh. How many times had Ron seen him relaxed like that, staring at the ceiling as if he could see in the dark? Ron's heart speeded up with the memories.

"So," said Ron. It was time for the fifty-Galleon question., "Why are you here?" 

Draco's voice was faint. "I don't know. I was just walking and didn't have anywhere to go."

Ron said, "If it helps, you're just as good-looking as ever."

"It doesn't, but thanks anyway." Draco's face rolled towards him. "You look exactly the same, Ron. It's amazing. Isn't that even the same shitty T-shirt from ten years ago?" Draco winced. "I thought I threw it out."

Ron chuckled. "I fished it out of the trash. More than once if I remember right. But, no, this is a new one."

"They made more than one like that? Why?"

Ron stood up, and began leading Draco by the arm to his bedroom.

"C'mon. You didn't come here to discuss T-shirts."

Draco followed him. 

"You always were fast, Weasley."

The bedroom door closed with a click. Hands whispered over shoulders and T-shirts against silk. Hard kisses in the dark, warm wet sounds, and an almost forgotten sensation of a man's hard chest pressed up against Ron's own. Draco was so slim and firm... he smelled like cologne, expensive cologne... like if he were on a menu you couldn't ask the price. Ron liked the idea of Draco being on a menu, but he felt a little shaky all of the sudden. 

Ron murmured into the kiss, "... it's, uh, been a long time since I've done this with a bloke..." Not that Ron wanted it to stop, no. No way. That wonderful hand squeezed the front of his boxers.

"First aggressive," Draco smiled breathlessly, and he attacked Ron's earlobes, "now shy... haven't changed a bit, Ron..…"

Draco's hands were smooth, expert, urgent. Almost as insistent as the heat between Ron's legs. Ron's body remembered the pleasant sensation of aggressive hands sliding up under his shirt, tugging down his boxers, even if he had forgotten till this moment. Missed this. Missed Draco. Yes.

"..let me clear off the bed..." Ron whispered anxiously. They toppled onto it.

"Forget it, Weasley," Draco hissed, pressing himself between Ron's legs. Ron could feel him, hard, through the fabric of his trousers. Oh. Yeah. The clothes had to go. How had Draco managed to strip him so fast?

"Want you on top..." Ron said in a choked voice. 

Draco nodded, and his belt jangled as he pulled his trousers down, hurriedly. Ron liked the thought of that perfect pleat trampled on the floor, as his legs were raised over Draco's shoulders. A hot wet tongue teased at Ron. Draco's eyes were intense and burned into Ron in the near-dark. Ron tousled that perfect hair, grunted - oh! - as Draco stroked him.

"..oil..." Draco breathed.

Ron shook his head. "No oil. Lotion. Top drawer."

"That's no good..." he complained.

"It'll have to do. Call ahead next time. Told you, it's been a while..." Ron's hands slid through Draco's hair of their own accord.

Draco kissed Ron _there_... Ron had forgotten he always did that... the sheets rustled as Draco rolled across the bed and returned with the lotion. It was shockingly cold, and Ron's hand wrapped around a familiar sight. Ron remembered this part, vividly. 

"Let me..." Ron panted, taking the lotion.

So pale and beautiful on his knees above Ron, Draco nodded. His chin lifted as Ron pulled out of him that familiar moan. Yes. Like it, Malfoy? Draco's slick fingers were so wonderful, and Ron stroked harder. Their hands moved in time and Ron began to rock back onto him.

"C'mon," Ron growled, pressing up.

"You're not ready," Draco gasped.

"Good enough dammit..." Ron bit his lip and panted.

It wasn't enough; Ron grit his teeth as it burned. It was like his first time. Draco was beyond stopping, but he was more gradual than he'd ever been, more graceful, more... oh, more! Ron wanted more, as Draco hit that spot. 

~*~*~

They lay sweaty and tangled together in Ron's bed, still panting slightly. Draco pulled a sneaker out from underneath himself with a quizzical look, and tossed it aside. Ron shoved the (formerly clean) laundry onto the floor and wrapped the sheets over them. 

"Told you it had been a while..."

Draco shook his head, "Looking all over for basics like oil... you're the responsible one. You're supposed to have all that stuff covered."

"What are you blaming me for?"

"Because it's your fault," Draco said reasonably.

"How?!"

"I don't know, but I'll find a way." Draco said. "Merlin, this is like being back at school."

"Yeah. 'Cept it's not likely Harry will walk in on us."

They laughed at the humiliating memory in the boy's shower. "Oh shit... I never thought I'd get a hard- on again after that…" 

Draco's arm, at once familiar and strange, caressed Ron's shoulders. His hand tickled circles on Ron's chest. Ron hadn't felt so good in... he couldn't remember how long. He smiled up at the ceiling, grateful tomorrow was Saturday. 

Draco sighed heavily. The circles stopped. "I have decided you married a complete bitch."

Ron snorted a laugh. "How's that?"

"Because she doesn't think you're wonderful, and you are. So she must be a horrible, horrible bitch. A hag. A harpy..."

"What does that say about me?" Ron complained. "And don't talk about my wife, please?"

"Ex-wife."

Ron sighed. "Just don't. Makes me feel like I'm cheating on her somehow." 

"Was she?" Draco asked the ceiling. He turned towards Ron.

"What?"

"Cheating on you."

Damn Draco's perceptiveness. Ron was silent.

"I cheated on my wife horribly," Draco said casually. "Flagrantly. Frequently. She didn't care. Didn't give a damn. She had the Malfoy name.. the Malfoy money..."

"Sounds like you're the one who married a bitch. A plastic one."

"No argument there. I picked a blonde, any blonde, so we could mint out blonde children that looked just like me. That way I didn't have to think of the female half of the equation. Plastic suited me fine."

"So what happened?"

"_I_ started turning plastic." Draco looked horrified. "Who knew it was contagious?" 

Draco was quiet a moment. "Guessed I wanted to see some life out of her, even if our life together was bullshit."

Ron frowned with a sudden thought. "So, are you splitting up the Malfoy estate then?"

"What?! No! I'm a Malfoy. I plan better than that - haven't you ever heard of marriage contracts? She'll be supported in the manner in which she has grown accustomed. No doubt the blonde will continue unchanged. Unaffected as ever by my presence or lack of it. Kind of like a female Binns...." 

"Can't have been much of a life for her..." Ron observed.

"What -?" Draco looked puzzled. "Oh. I didn't put in the usual no-fooling-around clause. She just... never did. I checked."

"_That_ dead?"

"That dead. It was very disappointing. I expected something torrid."

Then Draco grinned at Ron, fiercely. "But you haven't changed. If you weren't so tight I wouldn't've believed it had been so long for you."

Ron eyebrows flicked up, and he blushed a little as he glanced at Draco.

"So... tell me. Who was the last bloke you slept with?"

"You really want to know?" Ron asked. Draco waited expectantly, a mischievous smile on his face. 

"You."

"Really?" Draco's eyes widened.

"Don't look so smug." Draco's smile broadened as Ron chided him. "I'll have you know I've had _plenty_ of women."

"They don't count." Draco stretched. 

"Only in your book."

"Well. I personally plan to never touch another woman again, so long as I live."

Ron didn't want to say anything, but he thought Draco should have done that in the first place. It wasn't as though the entire Wizarding world didn't know the marriage was fake, so why bother?

"There's one catch."

Draco's voice brought Ron back to the present. "What's that?"

"I still don't have a male heir. Never managed it."

"So? Just have your daughter inherit."

"You don't understand. The Manor can only go to the eldest male Malfoy heir. It's magically built into the protections, wards, everything," Draco sighed.

"That's ridiculous. What dinosaur thought of that?"

"A tenth century _Malfoy_ dinosaur."

Ron was stunned as that sank in. "Your family's been around a thousand years?"

"Longer."

"Wow."

Draco chuckled. 

"It made sense, in olden times, to link the magics back to the male heir. Women couldn't inherit back then. Those Dark Wizards had a nasty habit of killing off families, marrying one daughter, and then taking over… But these days it's a nuisance."

"Why don't you just fix the Manor?"

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes.

They were silent a long moment. The room had lightened somewhat, and Ron realised they had been at it all night. Some very early birds, the kind that chirp long before the sun rises rose, made their presence known. 

"So. What are you gonna do?"

"I'm working on it." Draco thumbnail smoothed along his lower lip, just as his father had when he was thinking.

Ron snuggled in under the blankets. "When you plot, Draco, I can hear the wheels spin. Get some sleep, alright?"

Draco nodded, but his arms remained folded behind his head, chest peeking out from under the covers. Ron knew it was a lost cause.

~*~*~

Ron woke to the novel experience of Draco still in his bed. 

Even when they'd shared a flat - well, shared _Draco's_ flat since Ron could never afford it - Draco had always returned to his room. He'd either slip off, or hover in the doorway for a goodnight kiss or smirk at Ron from the darkened hallway. Ron had approached their relationship with a sense of disbelief, helplessly carried in Draco's wake. Back then he'd hated the way Draco always left, though now Ron remembered those moments fondly, strangely enough. 

Draco's blond hair looked disgustingly good even after being slept on. The pillow was still tilted up against the headboard, Draco's neck at an awkward angle. Ron adjusted the pillow, and Draco sighed and stretched, but remained sprawled asleep. 

Ron propped himself up on his elbow and drank his fill of the sight. Draco was as pretty as ever. Ron knew their being together again was really bad idea -- assured himself that this had always been a bad idea -- but he couldn't quite squelch how happy he was anyway. Oh well. It wasn't as though Ron's good ideas had worked out either.

Draco didn't look exactly the same. After a ten-year absence the differences were pronounced. His arms were thin and had lost the tone they once had. Obviously he hadn't kept up the Quidditch; no surprise there. Ron still played. There were crow's feet at the corner of Draco's eyes, and lines at the corners of his mouth, especially on one side, from his habitual smirk. He actually looked a great deal like Lucius, but without the scowl. Draco had led a happier life. 

Comparing himself, Ron was pleased. He'd kept more or less in shape - Ron played Quidditch with his boys, although until six months ago he'd been a tad thick about the middle. He'd lost the weight; divorce will do that to a guy. But Draco was wrong if he thought Ron looked the same. Every smile line was etched into his face, though unlike Fred and George, he wasn't losing his hair. He gloated and teased his brothers about that on a regular basis. 

Ron sighed happily. 

He decided let Draco sleep late, despite Ron's own love of morning sex. Draco had probably been up all night.

Next time, Draco….

The bed creaked as Ron sat up. Ron slipped on a robe, yawning, and scuffed into the kitchen to start tea. He wondered how long Draco would stay. He hoped the weekend at least. 

He started to pull out a plate of biscuits and could almost hear his wife's voice, nagging him about his weight. Ron rebelled momentarily, but then he thought of Draco in the bedroom and put them away. He made some toast instead.

As Ron sipped his tea, the fire in the Floo suddenly extinguished. With a _thunk_ and a scattering of embers, a stack of letters and a rolled up newspaper plunked down the chimney. 

Ron calmly got up, and retrieved the morning mail from the ashes, shaking it off. This wasn't the kind of neighborhood a post Owl could fly through freely, so Ron had the mail dropped discreetly down the Floo. The Extinguish Spell sometimes back-fired and roasted his mail, but on the whole it was a good system. 

He mostly got bills anyway. 

Like today. Bills, bills, more bills, some junkmail… Ron took a sip of his tea as he opened the newspaper to the Quidditch section. He caught sight of the front page.

What the hell -?!

There was a photo of Draco Malfoy, posing for an official portrait. He looked like he had an itch, but was trying to sit still. Under it was an enormous headline. 

Ron snatched up the page and burst into the bedroom. The door flung open with a bang.

"Draco!"

Blearily, Draco stirred and glanced around the room. 

"You're a _Missing Wizard!!_"

"Huh…?" 

Draco was never a morning person. 

"It's all over the bloody paper - they think you've _disappeared_!"

Draco sat up on his elbows and swore. "Damn her… they're not supposed to notify the papers until at least forty-eight hours have passed…"

"You didn't TELL her you were leaving?!"

"You know how I hate scenes," Draco sneered.

Ron stared, dumbfounded.

"Besides, I didn't know what I was going to do about that heir. I needed a back-up plan first. But I think I have it figured out now…"

That was when Draco chose to ask Ron. At least it answered how long Draco planned to stay. Though virtually unheard of, even for men pregnancies took nine months.

Ron's teacup shattered on the floor, the pieces scattering in a million directions. 

End Part I.


	2. Name Dropping

Note: There are thirty-seven fanfic authors mentioned in this story. See if you recognize them. The complete list (in order!) and links to their websites is at the end of the story. Have fun.   
  
Name Dropping  
  
by Icarus  
  
Two men dressed in black met outside de Sauveterre's with a handshake; a slim white hand clasped a long-fingered sallow one in a firm grip. To the casual eye, they had the easy manner of old friends, an impression confirmed as the shorter of the two, a pale blond, clapped the darker man on the back. At first glance, their black robes appeared identical. But on closer inspection, the blond man's were of a finely tailored cut and cloth, in the latest fashion; while the other man's robes were simple, serviceable, and certainly not new. One might even suspect that this dark man had six identical robes at home, one for each day of the week. Which was, in fact, true.   
  
Severus Snape nodded to his host with a dour smile. Age had deepened the lines of his face, but otherwise he seemed unchanged. "Draco. It has been a while... staying out of trouble?"   
  
Draco merely smirked. No, not really, he thought. But Severus certainly knew that already.   
  
Half the wizarding world kept up with the doings of the infamous Draco Malfoy in the gossip columns. No doubt there would be an article about this meeting in tomorrow's post. With the predictable salacious overtones that, for once, wouldn't be true. A Malfoy learned to live with fame. Draco, for his part, chose to ignore it, unless it was useful.  
  
He held the restaurant door for his former professor, and old family friend.  
  
Inside, the hostess recognised Draco on sight. "Good evening, Mr Malfoy. We have your private room ready. Japanese décor tonight?"  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow to Severus, who nodded noncommittally. He was well aware Severus rarely went first class, but also refused to be dazzled by it. Draco's father had made a sport of testing that determination, one tradition Draco didn't mind continuing now that Lucius was in an early grave, unexpectedly leaving Draco head of the family.   
  
"Come here often do you?" Severus asked with wry curiosity as they followed the witch down the long, softly lit corridor.  
  
"No. Just the once," Draco said smoothly.  
  
That impressed him, Draco noted slyly; though Severus hid it well. A sign of his pureblood breeding, although the Snapes hadn't been wealthy for generations. One careless ancestor was all it needed to ruin a good family.   
  
Draco had taken the lesson to heart and left all financial matters to his people, his accountant Maya in particular, with the warning: "if I can touch it, I will spend it" - and that was that. The Malfoy fortune expanded accordingly, listed highly on Mad Martha's stock picks.   
  
The hostess led them into a small, cosy anteroom, and the walls melted and reformed about them. These 'international' restaurants were all the rage now, with their multi-faceted menus and exotic rooms - if one could afford them. They reflected the culture of whatever meal you ordered. Draco thought the simplicity of Japanese might be to Severus' taste.   
  
Draco needed a favour; one that required considerable, ah, buttering up.   
  
The paper screen slid shut with a whisper behind them, and two Japanese imps took their cloaks, bowing as they vanished. A small gong rang, and they were led to a low table surrounded by gentle koi ponds and tinkling fountains, as serenely calm as the dungeons of Hogwarts. Draco could tell Severus approved.  
  
"You look well," Severus noted, scanning Draco from head to foot. He folded bonelessly to the low cushions. Even in his fifties, Severus was effortlessly graceful. It was one of his best traits.   
  
Draco was more direct, and teased him, "Your hair's still black, Severus. Are you using Millefiori's Hair Solution? 'Wash the years away?'"   
  
"Allow me my one vanity," Severus said remorselessly, "and no. I make my own potions. Lord knows what they put in those commercial formulas..." Then he looked about. "So, where is your new 'friend'?"   
  
A slight smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. Severus meant 'boyfriend' of course, but had the class to understand Malfoys didn't mention such things directly. The imps reappeared with a fat teapot and two tiny cups. One poured the tea from an impressive height while another lit the rushlights on the table.   
  
"He had to cancel," Draco said, with an unconcerned shrug.   
  
In truth, Draco's 'friend' had been hacked off that Draco didn't want him here. But he was as subtle as a bludger, and convincing Severus to help was delicate. When Ron insisted, Draco simply gave him the wrong date and time. Draco called this 'conflict resolution.' He knew what Ron would call it.  
  
Severus' clearly didn't think much of this 'last minute cancellation', though he said nothing. There wasn't a chance Severus would approve of Draco's latest in any case. They sipped tea in leisurely silence.   
  
"So." Severus smiled delicately. "How is your wife?" Yes. He'd read the papers all right. Trust Severus to get right to the stickiest question.  
  
"I've no idea really," Draco said. He blew on his tea. "I left, and I haven't seen Anna in, oh, several weeks. She's still at the Malfoy estate, so no doubt she's peachy."  
  
"Where have you been sleeping then?" Severus asked evilly.  
  
Draco gave him a rakish grin. Severus snorted.  
  
"Indeed. Well, nothing's changed there. If the Daily Prophet can be believed, that is."  
  
"Oh, I assure you it can. On this matter at least. I've made sure the rumors are reasonably accurate. Nothing like a false rumor to really bite you in the arse later." Draco stretched, casually shrugging off a scandal that had topped the news for weeks. Fortunately, they hadn't got wind of where Draco was really staying (he had called in a few favours).  
  
"Yes. Tell me about it," Snape said darkly.  
  
Whoops. Last thing he needed was Severus in a bad mood. Draco steered the conversation away from that dangerous 'old Death Eater' ground.   
  
"How's teaching?" Severus liked nothing better than to complain about his students, their parents and the Hogwarts staff.   
  
"Worse than ever. Picture this: Fred and George Weasley. At parent-teacher conferences," Severus said dryly. "Their brood, otherwise known as 'the cousins,' have flooded Hogwarts. There must be about fifteen of that barbarian horde, and I do not believe that even the children know which one belongs to which brother. I suspect they just throw them all together like puppies in a box."   
  
Draco snickered. He'd heard this firsthand from Ron of course, about the twins' current wives, multiple ex-girlfriends, and children scattered about, in all the rich, gossipy detail Severus would love. But he wasn't telling Severus this just yet. He didn't want to explain about Ron; he needed Severus to agree to that favour first, before he knew a Weasley was so intimately involved.  
  
"Oh, yes. And we have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Yet again," Severus added with relish, setting down his tea with a satisfied click.  
  
"Any good?" Draco braced himself for the acid sarcasm. Severus loved to tear apart the Defence instructors' inevitable inferiority to himself.  
  
"Quite. To my utter amazement, he's actually Dumbledore's first competent hire in years. We're beyond Grindylowes now: he brought a Keelywolfe to class last term."  
  
"What? Is he mad?"  
  
"Well. Let's just say if anyone can handle such a creature, he can." Severus' eyes glinted while Draco put this one together. It didn't take long.   
  
"The werewolf. Lupin's back."  
  
"He is indeed."   
  
"My father got rid of him for good reason!"   
  
"Your father?" Severus snorted. "Draco, Lucius couldn't even manage to get Hagrid fired, arguably the worst 'professor' we've ever had." He paused as if to reconsider that. "Hmm. One of the worst." Then he shrugged. "But so long as our dear werewolf only eats one or two Weasleys... we have plenty of those to spare."   
  
Severus poured himself another cup of tea, his tongue in cheek. "Oh, and I have another 'secret admirer' with a crush. He can have that one, too."   
  
"A crush? On you, at your age?" Dammit. Draco mentally kicked himself. It had just slipped out.  
  
That affected calm was never a good sign. Yet Severus seemed more smug than angry for a change. "Yes, well, the Death Eater mystique apparently still has its cachet. So clever, too. Love notes signed with the initials 'CLS.'"  
  
"Let me guess: her actual initials."  
  
"I shall never solve the great mystery. The Order of the Phoenix should recruit Connie for their next spying campaign," said Severus. "Or perhaps not, as her eyesight clearly has failed if she happens to have a crush on her decrepit, old Potions master." He gave Draco a pointed glare.  
  
  
  
Oh hell. Damn the man's vanity. "Well, ah, I think your hair looks quite nice. It has always been your best feature," Draco said, a trifle desperately.   
  
"I don't expect I'm fooling anybody about my age. But perhaps I can fool myself a little longer. Intelligence is more of a factor at any rate; at least it is for those of us who don't have a different partner for each day of the week."  
  
Draco said nothing in his own defence. It wouldn't help his case. Especially when your actions were indefensible.  
  
Severus folded his arms. The rushlights flickered. "Speaking of which... who is this 'new man' in your life? Is he why you finally left your wife?" Severus was now clearly in no mood to give any quarter. Not that he would have in any case.  
  
"You'll read about it in the papers soon enough." Draco dodged the question.  
  
"Minx. I don't doubt it. Cassandra Claire's gossip column seems to be my only source of news about you these days." Severus said. "Though I'm starting to enjoy it. Quite torrid, actually. I am appalled," he said dryly. "But is any of it true? About that Quidditch Seeker, whatshisname - John - and all the rest?"   
  
Draco grinned shamelessly. "Yes. All of it. Cassie and I have a little agreement. I don't sue her for libel, keep her in the loop, and she gives me privacy where it matters to me." Such as where he'd spent the last several weeks. Draco plucked the menu out of the air as it materialised over his tea. "Wonderful way to get rid of 'clingy' boyfriends, given how many of them were conveniently married. A little taste of Malfoy publicity and it's, 'good-bye. So sad to see you go.' Saves the messy break-up."  
  
Severus scanned his own menu and shook his head. "You are truly your father's son."  
  
Draco glanced up. "No need to be insulting."   
  
"On the contrary, I rather admired Lucius' deviousness." Severus ran his thumbnail over his lower lip. "Many of them were married... an interesting turn of phrase. I take it the current one is not." He gave Draco a sharp glance over the menu.   
  
The man never gave up. "A change of pace."   
  
Severus rolled his eyes. "You've no respect for the fine institution of marriage." It was hard to tell if this was meant to be irony or not. Severus could be surprisingly staid.  
  
"It's had no respect for me. Not as though I could marry who I liked."  
  
"No Malfoy could ever marry whom they liked." Severus sighed, and returned to his perusal of the menu. There were no prices listed. Draco considered any restaurant that labeled its food with price tags gauche. But he was having a difficult time breaking Ron of that 'cheeseburger' habit.   
  
Draco leaned over the narrow table to Severus. "I'd recommend the kissaki, it's quite good. Although if you prefer something a little spicier, you might like the koanju. And they do have sushi, naturally..."  
  
Severus set the menu aside with studied carelessness. There was a tiny triumphant gleam in those black eyes. "Shall we have their little sampling of everything, to share? Served traditional Asian style?"   
  
Familiar with the menu? "I thought you didn't get out much."   
  
"You don't owl, or firecall, for months. I am forced to learn of your leaving your wife in a gossip column. Yet, somehow, you are an expert on my personal life," Severus said, in a dangerously reasonable tone. "I shall have you know I have been here before."  
  
And this was not a business restaurant. "Oh my, Severus has a beau?" Draco teased. "Who's the lucky lady? That new Divination instructor?"  
  
"Man. As you well know." Severus had a subtle smile as he picked up his tiny teacup with practiced ease, his mood greatly improved. "And no, I wouldn't date Lady Dien Alcoyne if she were the last available option at Hogwarts."   
  
Draco hid his smirk at that particular phrasing. Severus was notorious for dating his fellow teachers, with consistently disastrous consequences. But Severus had never learned not to 'shit where you eat', as Ron so crudely put it.   
  
"Dien? Not another Sybill is she?" Draco asked. Severus had been so pleased when Trelawney finally kicked the bucket.   
  
"Thank Merlin, no. Dien's surprisingly accurate. But if she ever taught her real methods of divination, well... I wouldn't want the class after hers." Draco raised a curious eyebrow. "Drinks her inspiration. It doesn't matter though - divination cannot be taught. Dumbledore is simply trawling for gifts. And she's a far sight better than that new age guru we had last, whatshisname... Jameswalkswithwind."  
  
"You're joking! Him? The one from the "Zortified" advertisements? I can see the future - mail me all your money?" Draco was both amused and appalled.  
  
"More subtle than that, but yes, the one and the same. Naturally we had to find someone to fill the position after his arrest."   
  
"Good lord. I would have thought those 'donors' complete idiots if I hadn't caught the subliminals in one of those ads. Almost sent him my father's pocket-watch before I stopped myself." Draco poured a little more tea. "I wonder sometimes if Dumbledore isn't a tad senile. One hundred and fifty years old is no spring chicken."  
  
"I would think so, if I didn't know for a fact he has always been like that."   
  
A woman entered, Summoned by Draco setting down his menu. She moved with the flawless, fluid grace one had to have when wearing a silk kimono... de Sauveterre's had real waitresses, not just spells (which gave you no one to complain to if they messed up your order).   
  
"Good eve-ning," she said in that curious clipped Asian speech. Native Japanese, Draco thought. They did everything right here. "My name is Cybele. I am your waitress to-night..." and she ran through the specials as they listened politely.   
  
Draco ordered several appetizers, in addition to Severus' choices. If he was going to bribe Severus, he'd best make it good.   
  
"...and to drink, you will have?"   
  
Severus set down his menu. "I'll have a Morrighan - no, make that a tboy."  
  
"Severus, your liver -!"   
  
"Can fend for itself. I should be dead a dozen times over. My liver should simply be grateful it still has a job."  
  
"I'll have an Isis cola," Draco said curtly, with a dark glance at Severus. If he didn't need that favour he'd order the soft drink for Severus as well, and damn the man's irresponsibility for his health. He planned to turn Severus in to Pomfrey - after everything was settled, of course. Draco did have that heir to consider, after all. One that he had no hope of producing without Severus' help. Not the way he wanted to, at any rate.  
  
"Still a teetotaler, I see, even with your 'wild crowd'?" Severus sneered, irritable again. He hated when people played nursemaid; though he certainly needed it.  
  
"Call it a rebellion against the rebellion," said Draco, and shrugged. "Frankly, I think my father would have preferred that I drank." Anything but sleeping with Weasleys; Ron Weasley in particular. He was probably spinning in the Mausoleum now the two of them were back together. Too bad, Daddy.   
  
A switchknife appeared at each of their plates. Severus gave him a questioning look.   
  
"For the koanju," Draco explained. But the question in Severus' eyes remained.  
  
The koanju appeared next, along with a number of other delicacies.   
  
"About your father..." Severus said slowly, picking up his chopsticks expertly. He certainly had been here before, and more than once, Draco realised. It was the only Asian restaurant that wasn't Muggle. Who was old Severus seeing? "...I was curious just how you became the Malfoy at such a tender age..." Severus speared a koanju. It wriggled madly on the platter, while Draco calmly nibbled some kissaki. "In the strictest of confidence, of course. Obscurus. " Severus put up the Silencing charm with an easy practiced flick. "Not to worry. For all that I admired the man from time to time, I do feel that getting rid of him was a public service."  
  
This again. "Damn it. Vocare!" Draco took down the Silencing charm. "I am so sick of people either congratulating or condemning me for killing my father -"   
  
"Oh, I didn't say you pushed him, per se," Severus said. His smile was sly. "Obscurus. But there are certainly many means to make the foot unsteady, yes? You were a fine student in Potions... a little plumeria essence with aspen root, a touch of vulgarweed... odorless, tasteless... your servant Brodie no doubt could procure the ingredients for you, perhaps even administer them..." Severus suggested.  
  
"There was a full investigation!" Draco was exasperated. Even his friends suspected him, after all these years. "If you know so much, maybe they should investigate you. Vocare!"  
  
"They did. I assure you."   
  
Figures. As if turning every stone could bring everyone's favourite donor back. Nothing like a little dirty money to make the Ministry happy. Unfortunately for them, Draco didn't have any 'worthy causes' to cover up.  
  
"Look, Severus, as difficult as this may be to grasp, even a great wizard can die ignominiously. He slipped and fell. Yes, yes, I was home that night, but I was in a completely different wing of the Manor. As per usual. I avoided him, he avoided me; we could go weeks without seeing each other - even with both of us at home. You know how big the place is. I was half the length of Hogwarts away, and several floors besides! It's like suspecting someone up the street. But the wizarding world has never seen the Manor, and they just think: 'Draco Malfoy was home, and he did nothing.' But I didn't even find him until the next day." Draco speared some more of his dinner. "In fact, if anyone killed Lucius, it was the house-elves."  
  
"House-elves? What?" Severus clearly found the idea laughable. "How?"  
  
"Oh, I don't think it was deliberate. They just kept cleaning around him; thought he was taking a nap."   
  
Severus paused in his dinner. Then he continued eating, though his face was thoughtful as he chewed.  
  
"Hmm. I wonder... he was not popular with his staff..." Dark eyes caught Draco's meaningfully.  
  
"Sweet Merlin, Severus. You have reached the ultimate in paranoia if you think house-elves are capable of pre-meditated murder."  
  
Severus said nothing.  
  
"Read any good books lately?" Draco said, consciously, obviously and very deliberately changing the subject.   
  
Severus ignored the new topic, and moved on to his next difficult question:   
  
"Who are you seeing, Draco?"   
  
The man was impossible.  
  
"Who are you seeing, Severus?" Draco countered. Severus looked down uncomfortably. What teacher - for surely Severus was seeing a teacher - could afford de Sauveterre's?   
  
"MartianHouseCat," Severus answered, "by Minerva McTabby. Her latest." It took Draco a moment to realise Severus was answering the question about the books.   
  
"Death Eater novels?" Draco laughed. Severus was always full of surprises; he'd expect Potions manuals, or something equally dry. The man read Latin as if it were his native tongue for Pete's sake. "You read Death Eater crime novels? Didn't you experience the real thing?"  
  
"It's historical fiction."  
  
"My bloody arse it is. Lucius was furious when they published that first book; wanted to know who'd sold them out."  
  
Severus gave in with a chuckle. "All right. For my part, I am rather impressed. I wish I had thought of it. Though I am more a technical writer. I have read them all, have pages of notes cross-referencing times and events, and I still can't figure out who it is. I thought Josan at first, she certainly has the nerve, but, no. No one can write from Azkeban."  
  
Draco was curious. "Is any of it true? You know, it is damned easy to tell which character is you."  
  
"You've read them?"  
  
"Who hasn't? I just read the first one though, Darkly Resonant."  
  
"That's her best. It is all exaggerations for the most part. I was planning to sue for libel, but after I read it..." Severus smiled. "It was quite amusing. Apparently I had more sex in my late teens than I ever knew. And my, my, I was so intelligent and witty at that age, too...."  
  
"You were always smart, Severus."  
  
"There is no such thing as an intelligent teenager. I teach them. Trust that I know," Severus said. "They are bags of raging hormones, wrapped in a lethal combination of arrogance and naïveté."  
  
"And the drug use?"  
  
Severus licked his teeth, and chuckled remorselessly. He dug around his plate for more koanju. "That much is true, and well established through a few brushes with Ministry law. I would like to think it was the whole reason I followed Voldemort in the first place. If it were true, it would provide a wonderful excuse."  
  
"What? That he drugged you?"  
  
"No. His fabulous connections." Severus toasted Draco silently. "Unfortunately, there were other less defensible reasons."   
  
Ones that Severus would never explain, along with his reasons for leaving the Death Eaters. Only Dumbledore knew the latter. McTabby's bestselling novels, of course, ascribed it to an uncharacteristic attack of nobility.   
  
Looking at Severus' sneer at their 'historical fiction,' Draco rather doubted it.  
  
~*~*~  
  
The rushlights had burned low, their cool reflection flickered on the surface of the koi ponds. The subtle music of tinkling water, combined with a wonderful dinner and interesting conversation lulled Draco into a semi-somnambulant state. The angles of Severus' face melted into the darkness like a Renaissance painting, his high cheekbones and arched nose picked out in light. His dark voice was rich and liquid, and it was so good to hear his sarcastic bark of laughter again, to see the spark of mirth in his eyes as they traded gossip.   
  
Draco silently promised himself he wouldn't fall out of touch with his old friend any more, no matter how bad a correspondent he was.   
  
Severus inhaled the last of his drink. True to Draco's memories of so many late nights with Severus and his father, Severus downed that battery acid as if were water. It was impossible to tell when he was drunk though, unless you knew him well, and knew how his R's would roll, the cadence of his voice slow to a purr, and his sentences stretch by alcohol to their maximum length. And the way he would lean, languidly on the table. As he did now.  
  
Their conversation had slowed to a comfortable pause. Severus set his down his glass and leaned forward on both elbows, steepling his long fingers.   
  
"All right. I give up. What is it then, Mr Draco Malfoy?"  
  
"What is what?"   
  
"I have been guessing all evening. But I am done with games. What it is that you want from me?"  
  
"Wha -? Me? We're just having dinner, it's been ages and -"   
  
Severus interrupted the excuses with a growl. "Oh, come now. You never write or contact me in any way unless you need something."   
  
Draco bristled. "What a terrible thing to say. You imply that I use you, Severus?"  
  
"No. I am not implying that you use me. I am saying it outright. Now don't try my patience. Out with it."  
  
"Damn it, Severus, that's not fair! We've had a wonderful evening, and think of all the good times we've had together." Draco was just deciding not to ask his favour now, to make the point that he was nothing like his father. Asking someone to dinner just because he wanted something....   
  
"I shall have you know that I am leaning towards a 'yes,' Draco. If it is not illegal, dangerous, or embarrassing, that is; I have had enough of all three for one life. The offer stands for this brief instant in time only, however, and it is slipping away as we speak..." Severus rolled the stem of the glass artfully between his fingers.  
  
"Oh -" Draco moaned, exasperated. Dammit.   
  
Severus laughed darkly.   
  
"You have me. I just... need a little advice. Obscurus." This time Draco threw the silencing spell about them. This was private.   
  
"Hmm. You have already taken the only advice I would give you," Severus mused. "And, if I recall, I have been giving you the same advice for many years: leave your wife. Sleep with men. And tell your family to fuck off. I did, and I'm glad of it. Let my sister have the bloody Snape fortune."  
  
"The 'Snape fortune' consists of a mouldy old Manor you all would have torn down years ago if you had anywhere else to store the ghosts," Draco said, irritated. "You can hardly compare the Malfoy estate with that pile of rubbish."  
  
Severus made a wry face. Looking into his dark face, Draco mentally congratulated himself for endearing himself to Severus yet again. He sighed.   
  
"I apologize, Severus. That was rude of me."   
  
"There is nothing rude about the truth," Severus said softly.  
  
"Bollocks. Most truths are rude and I should know better. It's just that the family estate is the crux of my problem: I don't have a male heir."  
  
Severus shrugged. "So what? Just have your daughter inherit. She's certainly smarter than you ever were."  
  
"No, I can't. Malfoy Manor..."  
  
"- oh, right. The Manor. I forgot." Severus rolled his eyes in understanding and set down his glass. "Lucius was a wreck until you were born. Why don't you just get that monstrosity fixed? This whole business with the wards and magic being tied to the eldest male heir is medieval. Even if it was done with Dark Magic it can't be impossible to undo."  
  
"It's easier just to crank out the babies until you hit the jackpot: 'it's a boy!'" Draco gestured with his chopsticks.  
  
"And pass the buck to the next generation... lazy. You Malfoys are all alike. If it were the Snapes we would have taken care of that problem years ago."  
  
"If it were the Snapes it would be Snape Manor and no one would care." Draco cringed. He'd done it again. "Oh. Ah. Let's just pretend I didn't say that." He gave a faltering smile.  
  
"We could. Or I could pay you back some time within the next hour. Which do you think would be more fun, I wonder?" Severus chuckled. "Well, well, well. So you need another baby. Perhaps you should have thought of that before you left your wife. I suppose you could always run back to her and beg for forgiveness... on bended knee."  
  
"Oh, be serious," Draco said. Severus laughed. "Besides, I have someone right now."  
  
"Yes, but you have always had someone. Right now, the day before, and the day after."  
  
"No. I mean someone who wouldn't be interested in a sideline fling."  
  
  
  
Severus' eyebrows rose. "Is it serious?"  
  
Draco was evasive. "In a way. I mean, not permanent, but he's willing, to, ah, make a long-term commitment."   
  
"How long term?"  
  
"About... nine months?"   
  
It should be simple enough. After all, Ron had agreed the baby would be a Malfoy, and Ron already had four kids of his own.  
  
Severus chuckled and shook his head. "I see where this is headed."  
  
"Well, how does one go about it?"  
  
"Getting a man pregnant?" Severus' gesture was casual. "Simple enough. You get some sample of a female relative of your man, say, a lock of hair. Then you hire someone of McGonagall's caliber to transform him into a woman; get 'him' pregnant. And then, if you can still tolerate your man nine months later, you transform him back. A good six months at St. Mungo's will fix him up in no time, given that men don't do well in women's bodies, particularly not for that long and assaulted with the hormones of pregnancy, no less."  
  
"Then I'm stuck with a woman for nine months! I might as well just go fuck my wife."  
  
"Problematic to be sure." Severus took a sip of his drink. He was obviously enjoying this.   
  
Draco licked his lips. "I've heard of a potion that, well..."  
  
"A potion. Of course. It is not as though I can do any other form of magic," Severus sneered. "I'll have you know I'm no Professor Longbottom with one sad, lonely talent - I took N.E.W.T's in most of my subjects! The potions position just happened to be open at the time. Now I can escape neither teaching, nor Neville Longbottom."  
  
"Oh." Draco hadn't expected this. "So... get away for a couple of weeks."  
  
"I am. Going to Telanu. And Capitu after that. Possibly even Nimori."   
  
Telanu. Lover's paradise. With their infamous club, the Midnight Blue. It had been just another pretty island until they put that in.  
  
Ah. Here it comes, Draco thought. He'd wondered when the old crow would crow about his new boyfriend. "With...?" he asked lecherously.   
  
"Well, Remus won his discrimination case. It took years, but if anyone deserves..."  
  
"Remus? Who is... Oh, no - Lupin? Not him again! Severus, you should know better," Draco complained.  
  
"He's changed." Severus said.   
  
Draco choked.  
  
"He changes every month." He sighed dramatically. "Lupin is a werewolf."   
  
"I am well aware of that fact. I make the potion every month, just in case I should happen to forget." Severus bristled. "I am a former Death Eater. One monster deserves another, don't you think?"  
  
Draco searched the ceiling for patience. "Talk about returning to the scene of the crime. Severus. It didn't work out before, and it won't work out now."   
  
Severus' temper simmered. "It is 'working out' as you say, just fine."  
  
"Let me guess. Everyone at Hogwarts is encouraging this." Draco said sarcastically. "I'll bet any money Dumbledore is delighted you two have buried the hatchet. Again."  
  
Severus' stone cold silence on the matter was telling.   
  
It was past the point a wise man would have shut up, but Draco ignored that silky, annoying warning voice. It sounded far too much like his father for one thing. "Why can't you look outside Hogwarts for a shag? Is this some sort of a teacher fetish? Laziness? Can't stand to commute as far as Hogsmeade? Lucky for you they have such a high turnover, but still...."   
  
"I should have known better than to tell you."  
  
"Bother, Severus. You wanted to tell me. You don't trust a fairy tale and you wanted to talk to somebody who would at least tell you the truth. Well, here it is: you're mad."   
  
Severus glared at him steadily. "Perhaps. But I am still going to Telanu."  
  
"I reserve the right to say I told you so."   
  
"Then you can stand in line behind my sister." Severus eyed him across the table. "You have a strange way of asking for favours, Draco." He smiled grimly.  
  
Shit. Draco had momentarily forgotten the favour. He moaned inwardly. His father had been able to smooth-talk anyone, even Severus on occasion; it was clearly a talent Draco would never share. Draco sighed. At least he hadn't run the Malfoy estate into the ground like his father had predicted. "A favour for favour?"   
  
On the other hand, Draco excelled at bribery. Every man had his price.  
  
"What can you possibly offer me?" Severus' jaw was set, but his eyes glittered with amusement.   
  
"Just this: I won't give you a bad time about Lupin, even when it inevitably goes up in smoke. Or wolfsbane and silver bullets, as the case may be." Being spared a little humiliation for once in his life was worth Galleons to Severus.  
  
Severus considered that, then nodded. Once. "Fair trade." He leaned on an elbow and observed casually, "You know, Draco. You are nowhere near the manipulative bastard your father was."  
  
Draco glanced up, and blinked at him in surprise. But Severus continued.   
  
"All right. What potion is it that you need? And, by the way, about the 'silver bullets and wolfsbane' - silver bullets are just a superstition. And wolfsbane itself has nothing to do with werewolves. There isn't even any in the Wolfsbane Potion. Have you forgotten everything from school?"  
  
"It's been ten years and I haven't needed it. My sole purpose as a Malfoy is to crank out one male heir: stud service."  
  
"Just when I thought I was wasting my time teaching, save in a few rare cases of intelligence and talent, one of those cases proves that I am wasting my time entirely." Severus' voice was bitter.  
  
Draco smiled wanly.   
  
"Let's have dessert."  
  
And trust to Severus' sweet tooth to put Draco back in his good graces. Again.   
  
~*~*~  
  
Draco was not fond of Asian desserts, so they ordered off the menu. The room misted and reformed about them into the warm reds and carefree clutter of an intimate Italian Bistro. Severus absently picked at the dripping candle wax, making a bit of a mess. It was disconcerting. Every now and then Severus did little things like that, which proved he wasn't quite of Draco's class. It wouldn't be so jarring if he were like Ron, who was always blunt and carelessly lower class and didn't give a damn about Draco's sensibilities. Ron was refreshing, and made everything 'Malfoy' seem absurd. This, on the other hand, was just annoying.  
  
Draco glowered. Back to business. "So. I've heard the Amanuensis potion might do the trick...."   
  
Severus looked up from his project. "Oh. That again."  
  
Draco raised an eyebrow.  
  
"It is amusing really, how these 'urban legends' make the rounds periodically. Draco, you have clearly been spending too much time in those 'men's clubs.'" He swept the crumbs of wax off the table, and Draco breathed an inward sigh of relief. Time was he didn't understand his father's petty irritations.  
  
"It does exist. I know that much. A friend of mine has, um, used it."   
  
"Of course it exists. I've tried it. And it is a wonderful sex aid to have both parts for a time," Severus said.   
  
Draco tried very hard not to visualise this, and failed.   
  
"Don't look so surprised, Draco. I may be fifty, but I lived through the seventies, and there isn't a potion, drug or position I haven't tried, boy. Do you think that you invented sex?"  
  
Thank you for that image, Severus. I may never have sex again.  
  
"I hear that if you aren't careful with it, you could... end up pregnant." Draco ran his hand through his hair. "So I thought, maybe, you know, a little deliberate carelessness?" He coughed slightly.  
  
Severus sighed. "All right. Speaking technically. You are taking the organs and making them two sets, one of each gender. So the potency - of both sets do you understand - is reduced by half. There is very little chance that you could actually impregnate someone." Draco opened his mouth, but Severus interrupted. "Yes. I know. They say use the contraceptive charms. That is merely a precaution. It is hardly necessary."  
  
"But it has happened? People have become pregnant when they uh, had both?"  
  
"Everything has happened in the wizarding world. Look at centaurs, hippogriffs, the sphinx. Getting a man pregnant? Of course. That is nothing in the larger scheme of things. But it takes an astonishing, nearly miraculous degree of fertility -"  
  
"Well, Ron's willing to give it a try at least."  
  
"Ron?"  
  
"Ron Weasley."  
  
"You're planning to do this with a Weasley," Severus said in a flat voice. He dropped his napkin to the table with a limp gesture.  
  
"Yes. Well... yes."  
  
"A Weasley," Severus repeated. He was silent a moment.   
  
Finally he said, "In that case I see no problem." He shrugged. "I can get the potion for you next week."   
  
Severus' brow furrowed, puzzled. His finger traced a line around the rim of an empty glass. "Tell me. Why is this Weasley willing to do this? To put his body through the horrors of pregnancy for you? Another one of your fans, dropping at your feet, ready to indulge your slightest whim?"   
  
Draco decided the gossip columns were perhaps a little exaggerated, if that was the impression they gave. He should start reading them again. "No. He's just curious. Wants to know what it's like."  
  
"Oh Christ, one of those." Severus shook his head. "He is going to have a lot more than he bargained for, if that's the case. One bout of morning sickness should be enough to cure his 'curiosity' for good."   
  
"But it will be too late then, now won't it?" Draco grinned, triumphant. Though, truth be told, he and Ron had discussed this at length. Ron was fairly determined.  
  
"Mercenary." But Severus clearly approved. "Which Weasley is this 'Ron' anyway?"  
  
Well. It had been ten years after all. Draco had thought Severus was taking this a little too easily.   
  
"Potter's friend...?" Draco winced and braced himself for Severus' inevitable reaction.  
  
"That Weasley? That hot-headed 'live in' that nearly got you disinherited?" Severus' shoulders sank and he rolled his eyes in utter disgust. "Of all the hypocritical... you complain about Remus, when you have returned like a lemming to your little revenge scheme-gone-wrong, that ended in you being wrapped around Weasley's finger for the better part of two years?"   
  
"Wrapped? I liked him. That's all. And father can't disinherit me now." Draco was mildly offended. His scheme hadn't failed, exactly. It just had a few, er, unforeseen consequences.   
  
"How many reparo spells did you do on those walls?" Severus asked. Draco didn't answer. "He has the temperament of a harpy, while you irritate even me. It was a disaster, and will be a disaster. Have you no idea what you are getting yourself into?"  
  
"I lived with him. Of course I do."  
  
"With that potion, you fool. Pregnancy."  
  
"I've been through it before with my daughter. I have a fairly good idea what to expect. He has four children, so he knows better than I."  
  
"No. You do not. Neither of you. I suppose there was little chance you were actually listening to me. If it works, which I under no circumstances guarantee even with a Weasley, you will have on your hands a pregnant man."   
  
Draco gave Severus an expressively blank look.   
  
Severus explained in his most patient, controlled voice. "A pregnant woman hopped up on hormones is exasperating and annoying. But a pregnant man is downright dangerous. Both to himself and others. He is still biologically a man, do you see, complete with testosterone and all those unfamiliar hormones going mad. Aggression. Thrill-seeking. Territorialism. Pregnancy brings out the most primitive traits. In addition to the bizarre cravings and mood swings.  
  
"I don't follow."  
  
"Picture naked broom rides. The Wronski Feint. In the eight month."  
  
"That's crazy. No one pregnant should be on a broom - you don't have the balance."   
  
Severus regarded him steadily.  
  
Oh.   
  
"Point taken. I'm willing to take the risk. The Manor is fully equipped with restraining devices if it comes to that." For all his bravado however, Draco suddenly felt he wasn't up to this. Ron was, after all, a lot stronger than he was.  
  
"On your head be it."  
  
Then Severus' had that pleased look that always crossed his face when he took house points. "There is one plus. If I recall correctly, both red and blond hair are recessive genetic traits. In all likelihood they would be co-dominant."   
  
"Beg your pardon? Is that 'scientifery'? Severus, I don't speak Muggle."   
  
"It means that the next Malfoy stands a good chance of having red hair and freckles. Just like any other Weasley. And looking at that familiy, I'd lay odds at better than fifty-fifty." Severus smiled. Slowly. Obviously savouring Draco's dawning horror. "A Malfoy. The spitting image of his old nemesis, Arthur Weasley. Oh, how Lucius would hate that.   
  
"Helping you is worth it, for that alone."  
  
Draco cringed. Although defying his dead father was a favourite pastime of his, there was Malfoy pride to consider, after all.   
  
  
  
Oh well. It couldn't be helped.  
  
End Part II.  
  
Note:  
  
There are thirty-seven fanfic authors mentioned in this story. See if you recognize them. The complete list (in order!) and links to their websites is at the end of the story. Have fun!   
  
Not everyone I read and enjoy is mentioned here, just those I happened to be thinking about at the time. The item I picked for the author's name is strictly onomatopoeia, (i.e., Kissaki sounds like an item on a Japanese menu). If a certain author ends up being called 'odorless and tasteless' that has nothing to do with the author. It's simply the natural result of being in a fic with Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy, those scions of sarcasm. If you want praise, show up for the Lockhart and Fudge fic.   
  
My point, of course, is to recommend their work. Did you find them all?  
  
A. L. de Sauveterre (www.witchfics.org/sauveterre/index.html)   
  
Maya (www.schnoogle.com/authorLinks/Maya) 'Underwater Light' and 'Flame and Shadow' not to mention the hilarious 'Draco Malfoy, the Amazing Bouncing... Rat?'  
  
Mad Martha (www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=219249) 'The Lodger'  
  
Millefiori (www.sockiipress.org/~luthien/snapeff/archive/hand.html) 'This Living Hand.'  
  
Rushlight (slashcity.org/rushlight/) 'Through a Shattered Mirror', 'The Snow Prince' and 'Rite of Passage.'  
  
Anna (www.witchfics.org/anna/) 'Moving Pictures' and 'Roman Holiday.'   
  
Grindylowe (www.geocities.com/grindylowe/) 'Sex Ed.'  
  
Keelywolfe (www.ravenswing.com/~keelywolfe/) 'The Art of Fucking' and 'A Lacking of Foresight.' (Do also see her 'Sweet Purity of Apples'!)  
  
CLS (www.thedarkarts.org/authorLinks/CLS) 'Black Shadow' and 'Fashion Sensibility.' 'Stag Night' and co-authored 'Call of the Wild.'  
  
Minx (www.vidweasels.com/Minx/warning.html)  
  
Cassandra Claire (www.schnoogle.com/authorLinks/Cassandra_Claire/) The Draco Trilogy.  
  
Seeker (www.sockiipress.org/~luthien/snapeff/index.html)  
  
John (www.geocities.com/queerasjohn/) 'Not Just A River In Egypt.'  
  
Kissaki (www.restrictedsection.org)  
  
Koanju (www.koanju.com/)  
  
Sushi (www.societyhappens.com/sushi/) 'Civil War.'  
  
Lady Dien Alcoyne (www.geocities.com/ladydien/) 'Season of Healing' and 'That's What Friends Are For.'  
  
Jameswalkswithwind (perian.slashcity.org/gila/) Co-writer of 'Price of Wisdom.'  
  
Cybele (www.swish-n-flick.netfirms.com/)'Quill and Ink' and 'If You Are Prepared.'  
  
Morrighan (www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=20632) 'Long Road to Damascus.'  
  
Lynda aka tboy (boozefest.netfirms.com) 'Home Brew' and the 'Boozefest'!  
  
Isis (www.geocities.com/isiscolo/) 'Oral Sex.'   
  
switchknife (www.geocities.com/knife_catharsis/) 'If Thine Enemy' and a million great recommendations.  
  
Plumeria (www.debbiesfics.com/) 'Draco in Darknes.'  
  
Aspen (www.restrictedsection.org) 'Confection Carnage.'  
  
Vulgarweed (www.witchfics.org/vulgarweed/)  
  
Brodie (www.livejournal.com/users/tinderblast/) The best rec list in town.   
  
MartianHouseCat (www.thedarkarts.org/authorLinks/MartianHouseCat) 'Arithmancy and Flowers' (Icarus glowers at MHC for taking this down).  
  
Minerva McTabby (www.geocities.com/minervamctabby/) 'Two Worlds and In Between' and 'That Potter Slash!' (Yes, they were written by the same author.)  
  
Josan (inkstain.slashcity.net/isf/archive/authorG_J.html) 'Aftermath.' The best Snape/Ron I've ever seen. Also the only Snape/Ron I've ever seen.  
  
Resonant (www.trickster.org/res/) 'Transfigurations.'  
  
Obscurus (www.livejournal.com/users/auxphono/) The HarryxSnapeML. Please come back soon, we miss you.  
  
Telanu (remembrall.slashcity.net/~telanu/) 'A Wizard's Song.'  
  
Capitu (rose-tinted.net/sevenshades/) 'Broken Bones, Healing Hearts' and various other steamy Harry/Ron stories.   
  
Nimori (www.geocities.com/nimorii/main.html) 'Pandora's Box.'  
  
Midnight Blue (www.black-waltz.net/noiresensus/authors/a_midnightblue.html) 'Mirror of Maybe.'  
  
Amanuensis (www.restrictedsection.org) 'Waking Into Light.' and 'The Worst Happiest Day of His Life.' 


	3. Trial And Error

Trial And Error

by Icarus

Ron walked across his bedroom, which was clean for once, and carefully shut the drapes. Draco lit a small candle on the battered wood dressing table next to the bed, then set his wand beside it. The bedspread was a soft, deep green, a colour they rarely saw because Ron almost never made the bed. He saw no point to it, since it would just get messy again.

There was a small amphora-shaped jar made of cut glass with a red-wax seal, set on the table. Snape had meticulously sealed the Amanuensis potion, said it had to be kept fresh. There were a number of identical bottles in the drawer. He had been humiliatingly clinical in his explanation of how to use the potion, but, well, it certainly didn't feel 'clinical' now. Ron felt like he was about to do something very, very naughty. 

Draco looked up at Ron meaningfully, with a half-smile that spread into an embarrassed snicker. Ron blushed. 

"Oh Merlin," Ron said. "Don't make this any harder than it already is."

And at that, Draco laughed outright. Ron put his face in his hands and moaned. He gave up on trying to completely close the curtains, and aimed his wand at the window behind them: "_Sabile!_"

The windows were now painted black."There. No one's gonna see through that." He was surprised to feel a breath at his ear. Draco was behind him, unbuttoning his shirt. 

"Last chance to change your mind…" Draco murmured. "We could just have sex tonight."

"Will you stop saying that?" Ron pressed back in Draco's warm chest, though he was still wearing too much to feel anything more than body heat. "At a certain point you just have to make up your mind, and _do_ it. The decisions made, that's that."

"You're sure?"

Ron growled. 

Draco let go. "All right. It's just this is a big step." He backed off to let Ron finish unbuttoning the shirt, and began undoing his own. A swath of pale chest was revealed as he worked at the buttons. Draco's hands, Ron realised, were shaky. He was more nervous than Ron. 

Ron brushed Draco's hands away, undid the last few buttons for him, and then slid the shirt off his shoulders. He almost dropped it on the floor, but remembered Draco didn't like that and draped it across the bed instead. 

"It's all right, Draco," Ron said, "chances are it won't work anyway."

"But if it does…"

"Then it does."

Ron ran his hands through Draco's hair and maneuvered him backwards to the bed. "But if you stay this nervous, nothing's going to happen tonight for sure." 

He held Draco at arms length and studied him, trailed his thumb along his angular jaw. Draco's eyes were dilated. The man was as scared as if this were his wedding night. All right, Ron could admit it was something like that. 

"Shhh," Ron said. "This is nothing you haven't done before."

Draco looked up at Ron with eyes that said that couldn't be more untrue. Ron kept talking to distract him. "What was it like with your wife?" He slid Draco onto the bed, pale against the dark green, his hair haloed in the candlelight. 

Draco swallowed. "Well… I, we'd been married a week or so, and my father, he told me enough was enough, I had to sleep with her. And so I explained to her, about… me… and she said that Lucius had already told her. Before we were married even, and that it was fine, she would - she would do everything." 

Ugh. No wonder Draco was nervous. Ron lay down next to him and quietly stroked his chest. This might be more difficult that he'd thought, for entirely different reasons. That warm protectiveness he felt so often around Draco surged. 

Draco went on, staring at the ceiling. "Well, I - there was nothing I could say to that. So." He cleared his throat. "She had a Fertility charm, and all these hoo-doo voo-doo things that looked like they could have belonged to Trelawney --" Draco snorted. "-- all over the bed, over the headboard, on the walls. Ah. I - had some trouble getting it up, because I kept thinking one of the tiki dolls or whatever-the-hell they were would fall on me. Though I prayed that they'd work so I wouldn't have to go through this again."

"Then she started wanking me with these teeny, soft icky hands. And - ugh. It wasn't working." Draco sighed. "All I could think of was how annoyed Lucius was going to be, and thinking about your father in bed really isn't the best thing either."

Ron groaned appreciatively, and buried his head in the pillow. "Oh Merlin, Draco…"

Draco winced. "And she was really _sympathetic_, too, which was just dandy." He looked over at Ron with a guilty glance. "So I tried thinking of something else. And I, well, came back to life.

"Thank Merlin _one_ of those tiki-things worked, because I never had to do it again." Draco chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I think she was grateful, too."

"I can imagine." Ron leaned up on an elbow. "So what did you think about?" 

Draco's smile spread, lighting his eyes. "Well. It was only a few months after you and I'd split up." Ron smiled at that. 

Draco stretched like a small lion and then leaned on an elbow. He kicked off one shoe, then the other with two small thumps. "What was it like for you?"

"Me? My wedding night?" 

"Yeah."

"Oh." Ron thought. "Well. It wasn't the greatest sex we'd ever had, but it wasn't the worst either. I dunno. Afterwards, when I woke up the next morning I just thought, 'Wow. I'm going to wake up next to this woman for the rest of my life.' It was an amazing thought." Ron's voice was dreamy. "A little scary, too." 

"Anyhow, she usually puts this green stuff on her face — she has great skin, Fred and George were totally jealous of me — but she didn't wear it during our honeymoon. She was beautiful. So I asked her, if, sometimes, she could not wear that stuff. You know, after we got back. I just wanted her to look like _that_ every now and then!" Ron said defensively. "Right there, in the middle of our honeymoon, we had the worst fight ever!" 

"I suppose if we weren't married I wouldn't've said anything, but I wasn't asking for much!" Ron huffed a sigh and sank into the pillow, ran his hand through his hair. "After that she claimed I ruined our honeymoon." He stared up at the ceiling. "Eleven years I heard about that." 

"Tsk," Draco clucked and shook his head. "That was a very stupid thing to say."

"Don't tell me _you_ think I ruined our honeymoon?"

"No. She did," Draco's brow arched, "by expecting you to be anything other than tactless." 

"Thank you. But I'm not tactless, I'm honest." 

Draco simply smiled. The candle made a soft outline of his shoulder as he rolled on his side towards Ron, and leaned delicately on his palm. "So what about when you two -?" 

"Our eldest?" Ron flushed. "Um. We were going to wait, you know? Get me settled in my job, buy a house first, those little practicalities. Well, I'm not sure what night it was exactly, but she came back from our honeymoon pregnant." He grinned. "Apparently that was my fault, too." 

Draco laughed, as Ron reached behind him and brought up the red glass jar.

"Ready?" he asked with a slight smirk, his eyes intent; Draco's smile slipped a little, but Ron didn't wait for an answer as he broke the seal and tipped the jar back. 

He made a face as he swallowed. "Fuck, that's vile shit. What does Snape do, add worm guts for texture?" 

Draco's chin tucked in defensively; it was not a good look for him, his chin was slightly weak to start. "Thanks for the warning: no kissing."

"Fuck you -- _oof!_" Ron doubled over suddenly, his arms balled around his stomach. Draco caught him as he buried his face into the comforter. 

"Are you all right?"

"Ugh. Just feels like a stomach - _augh_ - ache, that's all." Ron groaned into Draco's knee, muttering curses. "Just - stop." He breathed heavily and slowly began to relax, panting. "Wow, I feel dizzy."

"Probably Severus put in a mild aphrodisiac to compensate for the discomfort." 

Ron breathed deeply several times, still holding his gut as he sat up. Very carefully. "Not as bad as I expected actually. Worse than a kick in the gut, better than polyjuice." 

"Polyjuice?" Draco looked impressed. "That was one kinky wife you had there." 

"Don't ask."   


Draco casually hazarded a guess. "She wanted to sleep with Potter?" 

Ron squirmed and muttered, "And people call me tactless… Just help me get these trousers off?" The bed squeaked as he unbuckled his belt, toeing his socks off. "I want to see what this looks like." 

Then he fixed Draco with a glare. "And don't you dare tell Harry about that. Ever." 

"You were so whipped, Weasley." 

Ron stretched out naked, his skin flushed with either embarrassment, the aphrodisiac, or both. Draco eyed him up and down as he shucked his own trousers and slid down beside him.

"So what do you think of the new, improved Ron Weasley?" Ron tittered, his hand reaching to stroke between his legs. His cock was at full attention as he felt around its base, peering over himself. "Damn. I was kind of hoping for lips and a clit." 

Draco shrugged and sidled closer. "We could increase the dosage. But if this works, you'd be stuck with 'secondary sexual characteristics' as Severus so elegantly put it."

Ron squinted over at him.

"Tits." 

"Forget it," Ron said. "I just wanted the multiple orgasms. Well, that and the oral sex, girl-style." 

"Life is so unfair." 

Ron continued to explore, and Draco's hand followed, traced circles on his hips and thighs. His skin was dewy with sweat from the aphrodisiac, and a soft scent lifted from him. He didn't seem too different….

Ron found the spot and slid a finger in. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. 

"So that's it?" he said. "Just an extra hole?"  


Draco's fingers traced under his balls - which were slightly smaller than normal, he noted - to the indentation. "Well, the insides are quite a bit different, naturally."

Ron frowned slightly. "I suppose the angle's a little better," he slid his finger in further, experimentally, lifting his hips -- very attractively. Draco's eyes darkened in appreciation at the flex of a rather broad, but firm stomach. "But what's the big deal? I mean, everyone goes on about this 'woo, sex club' potion."

"Ron. Think about it." Draco leaned over him; his lips were parted, pink, and his eyes were slightly glazed. The hand between his legs made promising wet sounds. "Use your imagination." Draco gave him a sultry look. 

"It's used for group sex, of course."

Ron goggled up at him. "Have you ever used it?" 

Ron's hand had stopped, so Draco replaced his finger with his own. Oh, he was very wet. 

"Not on myself." He smiled, warmed with the memories. "The positions do get very creative."

"I'll bet," Ron said, in a weak voice. His eyes were huge. Draco had almost forgotten what a straitlaced 'married' life Ron had led since their schooldays. Not that he hadn't been married, too; but there was a difference between 'married' and Married.

Draco let his hand slide out and rolled on top. He nudged his hips between Ron's legs, and whispered in Ron's ear: "For us," he said as he pressed in; Ron sighed, "the basic missionary position is exotic." Ron's cock rolled along his stomach, squeezed between them.

Ron nodded, but he mouthed empty words on the next thrust before he could speak. "Nice." And he moaned, chin lifted. The next word huffed in Draco's hair. 

And it was strange. Draco knew every part of Ron Weasley; there should have been a firm round of flesh right where he was sliding in so easily, so strangely soft for a man. 

Ron's forehead creased. 

"Everything all right?" Draco slowed.

"Just… weird, that's all. Feels weird. I keep wanting to lift my legs up a little higher, and I don't need to," he laughed, the breath of it brushed fine hairs from Draco's face, tickled where his hairline started to recede. 

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

"I can barely feel you –"

"Hey, now --"

"No, I mean it's all cush-cush." 

"Hmm." Soft. Yes. It felt like he was fucking someone else. Draco decided he'd best ignore it. 

Ron fell silent, thoughtful, as Draco resumed a steady, rocking pace. There was no sound but the rhythmic squeak of the bed. 

"I think you can go a little rougher," Ron added.

Draco paused, leaned over Ron with a heavy sigh. "Have you any other requests while I'm at it?"

"I'm just saying."

The squeak resumed, slightly louder for a moment. Then it lapsed into the same steady pace. 

The sound was interrupted with a sigh.

Then Ron said: 

"Weird."

With a cautious flicker of a glance, Draco ignored him.

"So different…" Ron puzzled in an abstracted tone. "I swear you feel smaller." 

"God damn it, Ron!" Draco pulled out and sat up on the bed between his legs. Ron leaned on his elbows.

"I'm sorry! I'm just bored!"

"Bored? Bored! That is not what a man wants to hear when he has a job to do!" 

"Well I feel like a fucking brood-mare! Like I'm doing my 'wifely duty'!"

Draco's mouth opened and shut for a moment, wordless. He spread his hands, then dropped them, looking Ron up and down again. Nothing had changed in the last five minutes that he knew of. 

"Technically, that's exactly what you agreed to," he said finally.

"Well… I -" Ron fell back to the pillow, limp. "Never mind. Let's just get to it." He spread his legs slightly.

"Oh, now that's enticing," Draco sighed, sarcastic. Ron looked at him with heated defiance from the pillow. 

"Ron. Why on earth did you take the potion if you weren't ready? We didn't have to do this tonight; there's no full moon requirement or anything of the sort. You've been pushing me all week."

Ron sat up, cross-legged, and was silent a moment, plucking at the edge of the comforter; not looking at him. "We've been putting it off. For weeks." 

They had. Draco cringed every time they opened that dresser and heard the rattle of those unopened little jars, and avoided Severus, knowing he'd ask about the success of _his_ potion. Though it hardly mattered - he'd just blame Ron if it failed, and give them both an I-told-you-so. But Severus would never understand their not trying it immediately. Still that was normal, wasn't it? It was a lot think about. Fatherhood. Ron. 

"Let's just stop fucking around with this and do it. I'm sick of being in limbo." 

"You've been putting it off, too."

"Yeah. Well, I'm not any more." Ron still wasn't looking at him. 

Draco's eyes drilled into him, suspicious, his father's irrelevant warnings spinning through his mind. But if Weasley had wanted his money he wouldn't have left ten years before. "Why now? So suddenly."

Ron glanced up at him. "I just want things settled." Weasley had that grumpy pout that he'd always enjoyed, but had learned was a precursor to stormy weather. It was still cute, however.

"Settled." Draco tried not to smile. This was rocky territory, he knew.

"Yes, settled!" 

Annnnd there was the cloudburst…. 

"Damn it! I've been dangling for weeks on end, I don't know what's gonna happen, everything's going to shit and I just want one thing, just _one thing_ to go right!" He huffed, and Draco waited. If he had learned nothing else living with Ron years ago, he knew to keep his mouth shut during a tirade. It was almost pleasantly familiar. 

Ron stormed. "I would rather leave my job because I'm pregnant -- and stuff _that_ in the face of Louisa's friends -- than be fired." 

"Louisa's friends?" 

"Yes. She's still friends with half the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. You know how it is, office parties, the company picnic? She was a hit. People joked that she was completely out of my league."

Ron pulled the sheet over him and cuddled under it. He bit his lip mournfully. "I screwed up this week. Nothing bad, but, people are making a big deal of it. Mostly her friends." 

Draco made a noise of understanding and tucked under the sheet. "I'll bet she hasn't exactly enlightened them on her affair."

"Ha. Probably compares us over tea."

"Hardly. You have no political weather sense, Ron. She wouldn't have their sympathies if they knew. I'll bet you haven't told them a thing either, have you?" 

"It's none of their business," Ron growled.

"One 'overheard' fire-call can take care of that…."

"I won't slander her!"

"Your moral sensibilities have handed her the playing field."

Ron rolled on his side, his back to Draco, and said quietly, "I just want to quit. I'm sick of the whole mess. Just want it over and done with." 

"Then quit. This dump can't cost more than a Knut a month, if that." Draco suddenly recalled that Ron probably didn't have two Galleons to rub together, as usual. 

Ron shook his head. "Huh. Try three hundred Galleons." 

Draco scanned the cheap, faded wallpaper and cracked ceilings and thought it was three hundred Galleons too many, but…. "I can cover it; that's not a problem."

"No!"

"Ron, I spend more than that on shoes."

He opened his mouth to speak, then gaped. "Three hundred for shoes?"

"No, two thousand." He saw Ron's expression and scowled. "They're very nice shoes."

"Huh. They'd better be able to fly," Ron observed and wrapped his arm behind his head. "We've been through this before. No."

"That was ten years ago, Ron."

"I won't be your toy. Not then or now. I didn't want an apartment _or_ that stipend. I wouldn't take your phony job at that Malfoy company either -"

"It was a _real_ job."

"- I didn't want to move into some wing of Malfoy Manor -"

"Well, theoretically that was our long-term goal. The way father felt about my sex life and you, it wasn't really feasible in the immediate -"

"And I wasn't your charity project!" 

"Christ. It was just some clothes, Ron! What was wrong with my buying you gifts?"

"It was an _entire wardrobe_." 

Draco made an exasperated noise. "You took it like it was some sort of grand gesture. I was window-shopping in Paris and happened to pick up one or two items that I thought would look good on you." Draco's mouth made a hard line. "My father did that for my mum all the time, and _she_ never walked out on him." There was a petulant silence, and he added, "They weren't even major designers." 

"It's how you keep a prostitute. Right down to the secrecy." 

Draco squirmed at that. "My father didn't approve. You just don't know what it's like when your father holds all the strings." He rolled over onto his back, quietly thinking this through. Years ago he would have walked out by now, slammed the door. But he was older and it seemed far too much trouble. He sighed and rolled his head towards Ron.

"So. You won't let me buy you anything now. But you're willing to let me cover _all_ the expenses if you get… oh, this sounds so strange… pregnant." 

"Of course. I'll be doing something for you then."

"I'm not paying you for some sort of 'services rendered,'" Draco said with distaste.

"No," Ron said, "it's just, I dunno, traditional or something." 

"I will never understand you, Weasley." 

He licked his lips, and trod carefully around the next subject. "At least… let me chip in for the groceries. I've been staying here, but I really haven't been paying my fair share." 

There. Ron couldn't object to that. He hoped.

For three long heartbeats, Ron said nothing. Then he turned to Draco with a small smile, and Draco let out a silent sigh of relief. "All right. That's fair, I reckon." Ron finally relaxed, leaning back on his elbows, and his smile spread into a rueful grin. "But we'd better make this work soon, before I'm fired. I've got see their faces when I apply for _maternity leave_." They both laughed. "Louisa's gonna be so cheesed off. Not a damned thing she can do about it either." 

Draco chuckled and kissed his warm shoulder. The sheets rustled, white and clean, as he edged closer, pressed against moist skin. Ron still smelled sweet, so very sweet. "Then we'll have to get started, won't we?" He rolled on top, his hips cradled between Ron's knees. 

Ron's eyes shone up at him, round and innocent. "You can go a lot harder though. I might be some kind of brood mare, but I'm not a fucking girl." 

"Darling," Draco said smoothly, his eyes flicked up and down Ron's torso. He really couldn't resist this one. "I fear this potion affects your cycles for the wors--" Pillows tumbled the floor as Ron leaped on top, pummeling and swearing at him. Draco curled into a laughing ball. 

Sometimes Ron was all too easy. 

Finis.


	4. Friends & Old Friends

Reunion IV

by Icarus

The sky was blue and clear with fast-scudding clouds, the air still wet with rain. Ron stepped out onto his front porch, scuffing aside some chips of peeled paint. He heaved a happy, misty sigh, and scanned the street, hoping the day would stay like this so they could be outdoors. 

The top of a familiar dark head bobbed along the hedge to his left, but a staccato of little feet turned the corner of the walk -- far ahead of Harry. The door shut behind Ron with a hiss and a click as he trampled down the short wooden stairs, but the two red blurs splashed across the wet lawn and beat him to the walkway. 

"_Daaaaaaaad!!!_" they yelled as they pummeled into him. 

He hoisted his eldest son Jason in the air with a whoop, and had the giggling ten-year-old dangling upside down over a puddle in seconds. His ever-loyal younger brother leaped and hung off the back of Ron's collar, trying to pull Dad off-balance; but the skinny, freckled nine-year-old was nowhere near big enough. Ron straddled the mud puddle solidly.

"He's slipping! He's slipping!" Ron warned. He deliberately let his squawking son slide a few inches, and his brother Alec let go his stranglehold. 

Red-faced and laughing, Ron spun his eldest around, then flipped him right-side up to land on the sidewalk. Then they launched another attack, splashing excitedly. 

"All right, all right -- settle down," Ron fended them off. The two were little terrors. He ruffled the hair of his littlest son Lars, who'd trotted up but veered clear of his older brothers. 

Then Harry rounded the corner with little Cassandra in his arms. She was dolled up in a pink fluff of a dress that was way too nice for playtime. Damn that wife of his. Where did she think they were going? 

Cassandra wriggled and squirmed the moment she spotted her Daddy, and Harry had to set her down or drop her. Ron scooped her up in one quick stride with her feet still kicking the air -- before they had a three-year-old's disaster, face-first onto the concrete. 

"Where to?" Harry readjusted his glasses. There were tiny fingerprints on them. He reached again for Cassandra, but she was having none of it and clung to her Daddy like a barnacle, his jacket clamped in her fists. Which said more than he liked to think about the divorce. 

"Necromancer's park," Ron grinned, dragged Lars to his side and bounced Cassandra to a more comfortable position. "What do you say, boys?" he yelled, and was met with a howl of approval. The two older boys went racing ahead, trainers squeaking as they tore around the corner, shouting at the top of their lungs. 

"I think they'd level the house," he commented to Harry, following more slowly. 

Harry shaded his eyes. Alex tripped and sprawled on the pavement, then bounded up after his brother. Indestructible. "I can't see how Fred and George got all the mellow kids while you wound up with those two." 

"Yeah, I feel kinda sorry for Hogwarts when they get their letters." Ron glowed with pride. "Though Lars here is pretty quiet, aren't you?" He shook his shoulder. Lars held onto his Dad's belt loop and blushed at the ground. 

Ron would bet any money the other two picked on him when Dad's back was turned, and vowed to keep an eye on that. As much as he could now, anyway. It was tough. The other two consumed every ounce of energy just to keep them out of trouble, and with the divorce… He began to see why Fred and George got so much attention when he was a kid. 

"Say, Harry. If you go get the brooms, we'll see if we can fit in some 'flying lessons'." 

Harry sparkled at him. "You mean Quidditch?" 

Any excuse would do. Ron beamed.

~*~*~

Several hours later, the little pink dress was well on its way to total destruction as Cassie played mud pies at their feet. Exhausted, Ron and Harry wafted slowly back and forth on the swings. Their brooms leaned against a pirate ship a few yards away while Ron kept a weather eye on his kids. The pirate ship was starting to shift suspiciously. 

Harry hadn't commented on Draco's broom in the closet, though he had to know only one person could afford an ebony Quantum 5000. But he'd been really quiet, so Ron decided to tell him everything, except the, uh, baby stuff. It didn't make sense to tell anyone yet. Until it worked. If he had just been honest with Harry, years ago, Draco would never have been such a problem. 

Harry looked up at the sky as he listened, and then exhaled. He didn't look at Ron but he also didn't seem too surprised. 

"I was afraid it was something like that. Your mum always told me the stuff with Draco was just… a phase of some kind." 

"It was. Back then, I guess. But it's different now --" Yes, that pirate ship was definitely moving. "-- Oi! You two! Watch the brooms. And the ship **_stays where it is!_**" Ron turned back. "But me and Draco, we're more settled now. Know what we're looking for."

Harry squinted at him. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"No -!" Ron bellowed at Alec, though likely his older brother put him up to it. "No broom flying without me! That's Daddy's broom -- put it down. Put it _down._ I mean it! I… thank you. -- Of course I'm sure, Harry. Kids are great," he added with a laugh. "So when are you going to find a nice girl, to go with that house of yours?" 

He watched carefully as Cassandra scampered over to her brothers. They were assembling a suspicious armament of mud.His eyes narrowed.

Harry had a slightly scattered look. "Oh, I don't know…."

"Hold on," Ron interrupted as he saw a pinkish bottom bounce onto the dirt. And the crying started… little girl down. He knew that mud was trouble. 

"Hey! Time-out!" He strode over and grabbed Jason. "Do Not put mud in your sister's hair!" Spun him around. Hand on the chin. "Look at me -- Look at me. I know she started it, but now I'm finishing it." He scooped up his crying little girl and returned to Harry, continuing over her sobs, "I mean, Harry, is this process of elimination? Try out them all till you find one you like?" 

Harry snickered and dug at the ground.

Ron drew his wand carelessly, a spurt of water washed the mud out of Cassie's hair as she wailed. But she was more mad than anything else, he thought. 

"There, there; I'll protect you from the big, bad boys…." A jet of hot air billowed his girl's strawberry blond curls and she settled down. She liked having her hair dried, and tipped her face into the warm air. "All better now? You wanna go play?" She shook her head and blew spit bubbles, kicking her feet. She burrowed her head into her Dad's chest. "I've been waiting for you to have kids, you know?" he told Harry brightly. "Guaranteed baby-sitting." 

"I think you have my share, Ron," Harry said dryly.

"And somebody else's too." Ron grinned. "Though not so many that I forget their names." He mocked a blank look at Cassandra. "Um. Uh-oh… what was your name again?"

"Stoppit! You know my name!" she shrieked. 

"Oh yeah -- yoooou'rrrrrre… _Honey-bunny!_" And he cuddled and tickled his muddy little girl until she was giggling madly, muddy hands everywhere, her fury momentarily forgotten.

Harry smiled, a quick flash in his eyes, and shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

"Good thing you were always a slob, Ron," he said. Ron wiped the smears of mud off his face with his sleeve. 

"Slob," Cassie said. Ron ignored it. 

"You don't have to be a slob to have kids. Look at Draco. I've never met such a neat freak, but his daughter worships the ground he walks on." Cassandra restlessly put her hand up Ron's nose; Ron grabbed her and pulled his face away. 

"Like he worshipped Lucius," Harry observed.

"No. I tell you, Harry, when your life's for shit and everything's going wrong, there's always your kids. You think: well at least here's _one_ thing I've done right in my life." He stuck his tongue out at his daughter. 

"SLOB!" Cassie yelled. 

"Harry, look what you've taught her."

"Nothing but the truth," Harry nodded to Cassie and said, "Daddy's a big, fat slob."

"FAT SLOB!" 

Hey! "Uncle Harry's a skinny, four-eyed runt --" But she started shaking her head, her curls flying violently. "She's in love with you, Harry." She gave a loud screech of denial, curled up into a squirming, giggling ball in Ron's lap. He laughed. "Can't say anything bad about you. Me on the other hand…" he shook his head. And opened his knees, catching her before she fell through. "Whoopsie! -- You should have a little girl. They're the best. Boys are great, but they wear you out." 

Harry made a noise of disbelief. "I'm watching you go through a hellish divorce, I have to pick up your kids so you and your wife won't fight in front of them, and you say _I _should get married?" 

Ron ran his hands through his little girl's hair. Somehow he and wife thought that having Cassie would mend things. 

"Okay then. Just father a few illegitimate children -- skip the marriage." 

"Is that what you're gonna do? With Malfoy?" Harry's eyes pinned him. 

Ron froze. Then continued to rock his little girl. 

"I heard from Neville," Harry explained. "Do you seriously think you can hide something like this?" 

"How'd Neville find out?"

"School." Harry shrugged. "Snape needed some special herb or something, and Neville was curious. Hermione figured he was either trying to turn himself into a giant flying tarantula or he was brewing an extra strong sex potion; heavy on the female parts. Both options were scary. With Draco in and out of there we thought maybe, you know -- Snape and Draco. Remus said no. But it's you, isn't it?"

Ron made a face. "We were like this at Hogwarts, weren't we? Damned annoying. I think this world is way too small." 

"So who's going to be the father?" 

Ron couldn't think of an answer right that second. 

"Shit, Ron!" Harry spluttered. 

"Well, you see, his daughter can't inherit…."

"He's using you! _Again._ It's one thing that you're… 'with' him. I don't understand it, I never will. But that's your choice. With your wife gone, well, okay. I know. But it's a completely different thing to expect me to stand by and let him use you. I can't do it, Ron. I won't." 

"He's not using me! I know what I'm doing, I've thought it through." 

Harry started to speak again, but Ron cut him off with a sharp gesture. 

"Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like? On the other side of this?"

Harry gave him a strange look. "No. Of course not. I haven't even wondered what being a father would be like." 

"Okay… neither had I," Ron admitted. Cassandra leaned back against his chest with a hard thump. "But when Draco mentioned it I started thinking. This is the _one_ thing that girls can do that we can't. It's uncharted territory."

Harry snorted and rocked forward on the swing. "I don't think that's the _only_ thing girls can do, Ron." 

Ron gave him a meaningful glance. 

Harry put his hands up in defeat. "Just forget I said that. I do not want any details." He sighed and stopped his swing with a slow skid. The dust settled around his feet as he peered at Ron. "I dunno, Ron. What if -- what if you change? Turn into a woman somehow?" 

Ron laughed. "I already have. In all the important areas anyway. You could roll me over and fuck me right now."

"Fluh!" Cassandra chirped. 

"Ron. That's more than I ever want or need to know."

"Fluh! Fluck!" Cassandra kicked her muddy little feet. Her buckle shoes were just covered. Ron snickered. 

"Now look what you're teaching her." Harry grinned.

"Fuck," Ron said to her, enunciating carefully. Cassie looked up at him with big blue eyes.

"Fluh."

He tried again, "Fuh-kh."

"Fuckh."

Ron grinned. "There you go." He patted her bottom as she squirmed out of his lap. "Be sure to tell your mum that." 

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck--" she said as she scampered off, sounding like a duck with a lisp.

Harry burst out laughing. 

"You're going to get in trouble, Ron."

"Nah," Ron shaded his eyes as he watched her, beaming with pride. "I'll just blame Fred and George." 

She bounced to the sandbox where they could see Lars making magical carriages roll over rocks and twigs. 

"Oi! Lars! Watch her will you?" 

The seven-year-old glared at his father under his cowlick, clearly annoyed, but he complied with a patient nod. He was good with his little sister. Ron scanned the grounds for his older boys, who were nowhere in sight. Why wouldn't they play with him? Three years wasn't that big of an age gap. It was torture watching this and being helpless. 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at the sky, rubbing his neck. "Thank god. Maybe we can talk for ten minutes now without being interrupted."

"Interrupted?" Ron blinked, uncomprehending. 

"Never mind." Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, this is… what you're doing is crazy. You're messing with magic. I don't know. Magic makes some weird things possible, but maybe some things aren't supposed to be done." 

This was the last conversation Ron wanted to have. "You're such a Muggle sometimes, Harry." 

"No one knows what makes the differences between men and women." 

"I think it's pretty obvious." Ron chuckled and rocked on his swing.

"No! What I mean is, well," Harry paused, gathering his thoughts with that intense look on his face. "What if you start caring more about your hair, or liking make-up, or… what if you wake up and find you, oh, say, don't like Quidditch any more?" 

"That's crazy. I'll always like Quidditch. That's not a girl-boy thing anyway. Look at Ginny." 

"All right, Ginny -- I'll give you that much." Harry winced. "But what if you're not _you_ anymore?" 

Ron stopped cold. And was silent a moment.

"I don't know, Harry. If I'm still me after four kids, my wife, Voldemort, and _Draco _--" Harry snorted. "-- then I'll still be me after this. Don't you think?"

Harry looked thoughtful. "But aren't four kids enough? Why do this for Malfoy? He just shows up out of the blue and you'll do anything for him." 

"I have to make up for your lifetime share of kids, don't I?" Ron joked. 

"And so if I have kids you'll drop this plan." Harry raised his eyebrows like he'd scored a point. 

Ron didn't answer. 

"Did Malfoy pressure you into this? Is there something you're not telling me?" 

"There's no pressure! Damn it. Harry." Ron ran his hands through his hair and looked up with wide blue eyes that looked just like his daughter's. 

"I'm just tired, all right? I could use nine months off. If anything, this is a little selfish." He leaned back in the swing and huffed, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes. 

"I'm never gonna be rich, Harry. I'm almost thirty-two and I have to admit it _could_ happen but… not at this rate. Maybe if some long-lost uncle appears out of nowhere and conveniently kicks the bucket," he said with a wry grin. "When I was twenty I thought, 'sure, I can do it all.' But it's always been a struggle." 

"Money isn't everything, Ron." 

"I hate it when people with money say that. I just thought maybe this one will be a Malfoy and be taken care of like that. And maybe… my kids will get along, and look out for each other. You know? When I'm gone? I can't take care of them forever." 

"You're not that old, Ron," Harry pointed out, "or if you are, then I am too." 

He shrugged, philosophical. "When you're a father you think like that." 

Harry was silent a long moment, then said, "That's the first thing you've said that makes sense to me." He shook his head. "I just wish you'd fallen for _Mrs._ Malfoy." 

"You haven't met her. Trust me: you don't. Draco's a much nicer person." 

"Sorry. I can't put 'Draco Malfoy' and 'nice' in the same sentence," Harry said, squinting against the bright sun. "Not and keep a straight face." 

"Maybe nice isn't the word. It's just… anyway." Ron trailed off. 

He stood up, brushing the dirt off his trousers. "Well. I reckon it's time to check the heathens -- and survey the destruction. Those two have been _waaaaay_ too quiet for anyone's good." 

Harry laughed. "If nothing else you're going to need bail for them." 

"Oh God, Harry. Don't frighten me like that!" 

Finis.


	5. Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day

by Icarus

January 29th

Dear Severus,

We've been using your potion religiously for well over a week now, and have checked with the Maternity charm daily -- so far with no result. Now I realise you said that this might take some time, but I slept with my wife just the once and well, it worked.

Could there be something wrong? Should we try a Fertility rite in conjunction with the potion? 

Gratefully yours,

Draco Malfoy

~*~*~

January 30th

Dear Draco,

Even with a woman you must wait for the proper timing in her cycle. No doubt your wife made certain of that for you. 

Your Mr Weasley is just beginning this process. The ovum must be produced, then travel down the fallopian tubes into the uterus, etc., etc. The entire cycle takes approximately one month. Despite your lack of interest in the opposite sex, I trust that Weasley at least is not completely ignorant of female anatomy. If he is, he must remedy that ignorance and continue taking the Amanuensis potion daily. 

Please refrain from any additional 'experiments' that could disrupt my potion. What you are attempting is experimental enough as it is. 

Severus Snape

~*~*~

February 9th

Dear Severus,

I apologise for bothering you with something this ridiculous, but I hope you can resolve a dispute. It's been two and a half weeks and this has grown tiresome.

Is there a requirement of any particular position? Or is there a special position that is considered 'best' for conception? I say no, but Ron absolutely insists he is correct. 

Rather embarrassed,

Draco Malfoy

~*~*~

February 10th

Dear Draco,

I would prefer not to be privy to the intimate details of your sexual encounters with Weasley, thank you very much. (Though it doesn't take a great leap of imagination to guess the position to which you refer.) 

There is no doubt in my mind that position is irrelevant so long as the proper orifice is utilized. Perhaps Mr Weasley should refer to wizarding texts on sex education that are more reliable than bathroom walls and his Quidditch chums? 

Severus Snape

~*~*~

February 15th

Dear Severus,

I don't know what to do. 

Ron won't let me touch him. He didn't go to work today, and he won't come out of the bathroom… and he refuses to allow the Maternity charm. He says he is certain there is no point to it. Frankly, he seems very upset. 

Could there be some side effects to the Amanuensis potion? Or perhaps could this be an indication of sorts? A sign of -? Already -? I wasn't around for this part with my wife, but I've heard that women become overly emotional and sensitive when, well -- you know. 

Worried and very confused,

Draco Malfoy

~*~*~

February 16th

Dear Draco,

Loath as I am to agree with Mr Weasley, as it has been twenty-six days since he first took the potion, I believe he is correct. No doubt the women in his family have relatively short cycles as well. 

This is a very healthy and positive sign that my potion is working perfectly, and it may determine whether Amanuensis is gradual or immediate in its effects. 

I would like more specific information about his flow: is he spotting like a teenager, or has he begun full adult menstruation immediately? 

I would also like to compare his with a female relative's, either his mother or a sister would do. I've enclosed a vial and sealing spell for him to send a sample so that I may run a few tests. 

Severus Snape

~*~*~

February 17th

Dear Severus,

Okay. It seems you were right. That's… surprising. 

I've no idea why he wouldn't tell me.

Ron was, er, uncooperative with regards to your research (to put it mildly), but as far as flow I would describe it as… copious. Severus, he's called in sick, he's saying he won't do this but he _can't_ stop now -- it's a mess, he refuses to buy any sort of female product they use for this sort of thing, he says the one will get stuck and the other, well, he just _won't_. I've never dealt with anything like this -- it's barbaric! 

Help!

Draco

~*~*~

February 17th

Dear Draco,

Please inform Mr Weasley that I am running tests to be sure there are no _abnormalities_ caused by the potion. As for the other (disgusting) matter, I have enlisted Madam Pomfrey's aid. There may be some psychological issues raised that we hadn't initially considered.

Severus Snape

~*~*~

February 18th

Mr Malfoy: Regarding your most recent letter.

There was no need for you to send a Howler; I've no doubt your gutter language is due to the present company you keep. As for your 'concerns' about my involving Madam Pomfrey, doctor-patient confidentiality _does_ apply; though should you succeed, I assure you confidentiality is an utter impossibility and in fact defeats your purpose. **.**

Thank you, however, for the sample (at long last). I suspected fear would override Mr Weasley's indignation. Rest assured there is virtually no danger of adverse effects, but as I'll need this monthlyI suggest that you not tell him this. If you wish to continue to receive the Amanuensis potion, you will continue to assist me in my research. 

Don't ever send me a Howler again. You have stretched the limits of our friendship, Draco.

Madam Pomfrey believes she has a solution to Mr Weasley's 'potty training' difficulty - a redesign that accommodates male genitalia and manages to be at once unnecessary, overly expensive, and absurd. She has also made it a soothing 'dark blue' colour. You are to inform him that it is:

a) made from the same material used for the more difficult Quidditch injuries; and that

b) a man would likely experience a greater blood loss than a woman. I agree with her assessment although I don't see how it's relevant. 

She insists that he be told these two points however. She has asked me to inform you privately that should he run out, you might use a chromium charm to change the 'female' products to this lovely shade of blue. 

Severus Snape

~*~*~

February 18th

Dear Severus,

Thank you. Merlin, I apologize for that Howler. I should have known that you of all people would consider the importance of confidentiality. I don't intend to inform anyone until our experiment is a success. The Malfoys do have enemies. 

Ron's response, while not overjoyed, was at least positive (thank God). 

I quote, "These are for blokes, eh?"

He was greatly cheered by the fact that men have '**superior** blood loss,' and there's been no more discussion of discontinuing the potion, either quietly or at full Weasley volume. 

He somehow has the notion that only the Quidditch gauze is able to withstand this punishment, and so we are not going to run out if I have to order a ten-year supply. But he'd better be pregnant by next month because I don't think I can go through another week like this one. 

I'm off to buy new sheets, a new mattress, new bath mats, and -- since I can't stand looking at them any more -- new curtains. All plans to convince Ron to move to the Manor are on hold until we're past this stage, for obvious reasons. I'd rather replace a ten-Sickle rug than a Louis XIV divan. 

Sweet fucking Merlin, Severus. I wish you'd told us.

Yours truly,

Draco

~*~*~

February 19th

Dear Draco,

I did inform both of you in my first letter. I said it was a monthly cycle did I not? 

I am surrounded by children who can't make simple leaps of logic, but I expect more of adults.

I would commiserate, but for next time I recommend that you choose someone further up the evolutionary ladder. I trust that when I refer to him as your 'bloody boyfriend' henceforth, you will know what I mean? 

Amused,

Severus

~*~*~

February 20th

Severus, you are horrible. 

Draco

~*~*~

February 21st

I do try.

Your friend (despite the Howler),

Severus

~*~*~

February 22nd

I haven't stopped laughing since I received your owl. You realise of course that I'd have to hex you if you ever said it to Ron's face. Pregnancies and the Malfoy fortune aside, I do want to have sex again. 

I don't know what I'd do without your help. Ron and I have decided that we are completely mad to even attempt this. 

Draco

P.S. We are running low on the Amanuensis potion. Could you please send (oh dear god) another month's supply? 

Finis.


End file.
